


On The Wall

by divhtml



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: M/M, What am I doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divhtml/pseuds/divhtml
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just how did Mamoru... get himself pressed up against Ibuki's bedroom wall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> I may be a literature student but this is the first time I've written a fanfic - sorry if it's worded awkwardly and out of character. Bear with me this one - I honestly have no idea what I'm doing sakjd;lkafj;glkdfjg  
> My regret with this is that this is really .. vanilla.... lmao....  
> Also I'm great at writing titles. and synopses. Yep

How… how did he get here?  
"Don't struggle." Ibuki slammed Mamoru into the cold wall of his bedroom. Hard.  
The sudden push into the wall knocked the wind from Mamoru's chest and he found it hard to regain his breath from the impact. Ibuki had both of his arms pinned to the wall, effectively caving on his personal space, and a couple of fervent, awkward seconds was exchanged between them. Mamoru ventured with his gaze and tried to meet with Ibuki's, but his intense glare made him feel uncomfortable holding the eye contact for long, and his eyes faltered and drifted off to the side. Why the hell was he staring at him this meticulously? His heart throbbed and palpitated uncomfortably in his chest. Ibuki coldly inspected his features from top to bottom, his piercing red gaze scrutinizing and tracing his jawline, his nose, his lips. (Which made Mamoru a little squeamish, and he writhed a little under Ibuki's firm grip.) He tried to push forward, to break free from this compromising situation but Ibuki had him firmly immobilized against the cool concrete. He'd never noticed how... _strong_ Ibuki was.  
There was another moment of resistance between them, and Ibuki relinquished his grip on just one of his hands, tugging on his amber gem button, loosening and easing his stiff collar off his shoulders with a slow exhale. Mamoru didn't stop him - he wasn't sure whether the glass of wine he had before dinner or the aphrodisiac nature of the moment was clouding his sense of judgement. _This really isn't so bad,_ he contemplated mentally. _Just...just let him do what he wants._ After all, there was really nothing he could do - he still had him bound to the wall, even with one hand. And when Ibuki leaned in to the nape of his neck to inhale his scent of his cologne, he decided that he didn't care. He didn't care anymore - he just wanted to lose himself and let someone else take control. He'd been in control of everything around him for so long - the damned branch manager always left Mamoru to pick up the slack, neglecting his administerial duties and disappearing to god knows where. Eventually, his eyes became lidded and his brain became numb and hazy - he didn't know or care what was right and wrong. Everything can just go to hell since only thing that mattered right here, right now was Ibuki was murmuring to him in deep, thick tones.

"Don't think." 

_Already pathetically weak,_ he mused derisively. At least in this moment of time he didn’t care how pathetic he looked - his unkempt hair, his undone t-shirt, his ragged breathing. He was sure that this was only just the beginning. Slowly and sensually Ibuki caressed his collarbone with his lips, taking his time working from the base of his neck to his earlobe, giving Mamoru shivers and tingles down his spine. Ibuki entwined his other hand in Mamoru's hair and gave it a slight pull, which tilted Mamoru's head backwards, allowing his mouth to be parted ever so slightly. Gently, Ibuki's tongue forced itself inside, hot and wet, and Mamoru wanted to drown in the feeling of Ibuki's press against his mouth. He gasped slightly and leaned back into the wall, sinking, creating some space between them, but Ibuki quickly dispelled the gap by pressing his own chest against his.  
A soft moan reverberated from Mamoru’s lips. Chuckling sardonically, Ibuki pulled back out of the kiss in response. He leaned in for another kiss and began to slowly untuck his shirt from the hem of his pants . Mid untuck, it seemed as if Ibuki had a moment of uncertainty - _(Was this really ok?)_ his fingers hovering beside his waist. It served as a small reminder to Mamoru that despite Ibuki’s stoic, detached facade he maintained on the outside, he was a concerned individual. Reassuringly, he guided Ibuki’s hand along with his under his shirt, to encourage him - _(Of course this is ok)_ caressing and gliding over the sides of his navel, exploring the crevices and dips of Mamoru's body, together. Mamoru’s hand broke away from his, and one by one, Ibuki undid his buttons, the sensation of slowly exposing him, arousing.

Mamoru wondered whether there had been others before him in Ibuki's life. He didn't peg him as the promiscuous type, but he certainly seemed like he knew what he was doing, as he was fondling and caressing him in all the right places. He wondered whether he had touched other women like this, whether he had witnessed other people grind and moan before him, made them weak by his touch. Not like there was anything wrong with that, Mamoru counter-argued in his head. He'd courted a couple women in his life, but none of them could really connect or understand him - often they'd be frustrated with his job and his passion for vanguard. The relationship would degenerate into harsh glances and arguments until he'd finally be pressed with an ultimatum - (Which do you love more - Vanguard or me?) and he'd be forced to her let down, explaining that Vanguard wasn't just his job - it was his calling, and that as much as he loved her, nothing she could give would ever compare to the thrill of a cardfight, or the feeling of accomplishment whenever the look of understanding was slowly washed upon a new fighter. He'd figured that he'd be married to vanguard forever. Or he'd thought so until he met Ibuki- a cardfighter who matched and tested his passion for Vanguard, perhaps his dedication exceeding his own.

"Something wrong?" Ibuki sensed Mamoru's mind drifting off into an uneasy tangent. He was always the worrywart, he mused.  
"I..well… you seem to... to... know what you're doing…"  
"Oh? This is… I mean… You are the first person I've ever done something like this to."  
"But you seem-"  
"As a healthy 24 year old male, I am well aware of the existence of explicit material on the internet. Sometimes I - I even read things." At revealing this confession Ibuki's face had the faintest flush of red amongst his cheeks. It was a rare sight to see him flustered, even if it was just a slight blush. Mamoru chuckled lightly. It was heartwarming to see this other side of him, and the idea that only Mamoru was able to see this part of Ibuki's personality made him feel exclusive.  
Mamoru's hand broke away from his as he connected both of his arms behind Ibuki's head, weaving fistfuls of Ibuki's long silvery hair in this fingers, as he was sure that he need something, anything to grab onto, as the world started spinning beneath his feet. Ibuki continued to play with his chest, teasing his nipples and tantalizing his skin with his quick touches and it was fair to say he became stiff - _down there_ \- and he didn't bother trying to hide it from Ibuki. He was sure that he could feel him becoming hard against his leg.  
"Let me." Ibuki murmured huskily, unbuckling his pants - _they're in the way_ \- and cradling his penis, his hands softly stroking his shaft, fingers lingering on the tip, excruciatingly so, and part of Mamoru wished he could hurry up so that he could be _properly pleasured._ "Please..." Mamoru whimpered into his ear, and Ibuki took the hint to build up rhythm and apply more pressure under his shaft, moving from the base to the head in strong movements. Whenever Ibuki applied his hand along his cock it felt like not only his penis was being stroked, but his entire being, and his whole body began to flush with heat and lust with every grope. Ibuki gained more confidence and started to experiment with pressure, testing and observing Mamoru's reactions _(Ah…! Yes…! Right There..!)_ seeing which areas Mamoru was most responsive, and which areas he didn't respond to as much. Soon after finding his sensitive regions he started to fully straddle him with force, slipping and sliding, milking his ardent member for what it was worth. It wasn't long before Mamoru gently thrust his hips into his hands to accentuate the feeling of desire, moaning in Ibuki's ear, pleading for him to feel him up more, begging for him to kiss him more and it was all so pleasurable - so gratifying - so satisfying - so - so - s-  
And he climaxed, forcibly, fireworks exploding behind his cranium. He came quite a lot, actually - most of it landed in Ibuki's hand, but globs of thick semen landed on Ibuki's pants, and his own.  
"Ah... I'm sorry…" Mamoru blushed and apologized, as Ibuki cleaned himself up with handkerchief he pulled from his pocket "You're going to have to change your pants. Mine too, actuall-"  
"Don't apologize. In return, you're going to have to stay the night," Ibuki pressed against Mamoru's shoulders and guided him to the bed, firmly shoving him upon the bedsheets “because I'm going to have to punish you for making a mess on my pants." Ibuki shrugged his white coat off and let it land with a small thud on the floor.  
Yeah.… Mamoru thought as Ibuki started undressing his shirt. He would be staying the night.

**Author's Note:**

> CALL TO ALL THE IBUMAMO FANFIC WRITERS TO FILL UP THE TAG SO I DON’T EVER HAVE TO SUFFER THE TRAUMA OF WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS I SPENT AT LEAST A GOOD 2 HOURS CRYING ON MY BEDROOM FLOOR WHILE WRITING THIS PLEASE HELP ME  
> ((thanks for one of my friends for proofreading this darned thingo))


End file.
